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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978629">Trouble in Paradise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cogsandsprings/pseuds/cogsandsprings'>cogsandsprings</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Flushed Away (2006)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Hurt/Comfort, graphic depiction of a panic attack/dissociation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:53:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,827</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26978629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cogsandsprings/pseuds/cogsandsprings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roddy thinks he is settling nicely in sewer life. A visit with Rita’s family changes his mind in an embarrassing way. [Roddy has a social anxiety induced panic attack; confronts his isolation induced trauma]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rita/Roddy St. James</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Trouble in Paradise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Obviously a little heavier than my last one! I can't stop thinking about the psychology and sociology of this movie. The layers, the implications. Here's a little taste of Roddy's anxiety, with experiences borrowed from my own panic attacks. I may come back and edit/repost this later, but in the meantime enjoy! (Well, enjoy the comfort part anyway!)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had happened a few times before. He had never thought anything of it, really, since he had been alone all that time. But if this was how it was going to happen now, it was going to be a problem. </p>
<p>Rita had brought him to meet her family properly. He had had to apologize for the whole “stealing the boat” business, and he and Rita had regaled everyone with the tale. He was of course glad to see everyone was okay after the wave, though Rita’s grandmother still occasionally thought he was Tom Jones. </p>
<p>It hadn’t started until later. </p>
<p>It had always been the closeness that triggered it. The sound of his cage latch falling into place, the oppressive silence of the house in Kensington, the darkness. He always felt trapped when he ran out of things to think about, things to do. It pressed down on him and made his chest tight. He was so happy in the sewer that he hadn’t thought this would follow him. So many things to do, things to think! He realized he was just distracting himself. </p>
<p>It was dinner that really pushed him over the edge. He had been having somewhat of an odd day already, feeling strange when he woke that morning. Sort of detached, and fuzzy-headed. He assured Rita he was fine and assumed it would go away. It couldn’t be the same oppressive nighttime feeling he had had Up Top. So he ignored it. </p>
<p>He ignored it the whole boat ride over to the Malones’ house. He ignored it while the children flocked to him and he was lovingly teased for being “Rita’s booooyfriend ~” and he ignored it while he sang more Tom Jones songs for Rita’s grandmother. He ignored it while it built and built heavier in his chest. He was panting, nearly. Just exhausted himself with the thrill of performing, of course. </p>
<p>They all took their seats at the table as conversation flowed away from him towards catching up with family news. He was trembling faintly, too faintly for Rita to feel, pressed against his side, even. He missed the bowl every time he remembered to try as it slid by him. He’d get the hang of it one day he was sure. </p>
<p>Rita pressed to one side, Liam close on the other. The wheels of Fergus’ skates scraping the wood and his ears. Children shrieking as Shocky zapped them. Rita’s father laughing boisterously. The house tilting crazily around him. The room feeling smaller and smaller, the bench a tighter and tighter fit, until he dropped his spoon. He was panting much harder now, hyperventilating? He needed to get out out out but he was trapped. His head felt like it was full of fluff and everything was muted. Were his ears ringing? </p>
<p>He knew Rita’s hand was on his shoulder, though it felt far away. Did she say something to him? He couldn’t tell. Oh he couldn’t tell. That wasn’t right, surely? Was he dying? Oh god he was dying. This time he was really going to die and it was going to matter because he had people now. He wasn’t alone in a cage Up Top, he had people! </p>
<p>Rita pulled at him a bit. Did she want him to stand up? He stood too quickly, his legs not quite under him and stumbled backwards over the bench. “I’m fine, everything’s fine,” he said to no one in particular. </p>
<p>Was anyone looking at him? Oh god. He looked up and really tried to see. Rita was half carrying him to the door. “No, no, we can’t leave. I can do it, I can do it. It’s fine,” Roddy wheezed. </p>
<p>“We’re just getting some air, love, it’s okay,” Rita reassured him. And he did feel better outside, on solid wood and some quiet. He was still breathing hard. </p>
<p>Rita helped him sit and gently guided his head between his knees. They sat silently for some time with Rita rubbing his back before Roddy felt tears pricking his eyes. How stupid! This shouldn’t have happened, not here! He thought miserably. He let some tears fall out of sheer frustration. </p>
<p>Rita rubbed his back. “It’s okay, Rods,” she said. </p>
<p>Roddy sat up again, still feeling a little woozy. “No it’s not, Rita! What even was that? I was fine the last time I was here and now I’m not! This never happens during the day and I love your family, I love having a family, finally! There’s simply no excuse for this!” He crossed his arms and looked away as more tears fell, breathing raggedly. </p>
<p>Rita latched onto the one part of his outburst he hadn’t wanted her to, obviously. “Not during the day? Roddy you’re having a panic attack, those aren’t limited to nighttime, love.” </p>
<p>He hadn’t wanted to hear her say that. He didn’t want to give her another reason to think of his life Up Top as pathetic. He had been fine, it was a fine life! Tabitha fed him well when she remembered and he had Tabitha’s toys the rest of the time, and his vivid imagination to keep him company. He had no reason to be ashamed just because he had some trouble sleeping some nights from getting too keyed up! He felt too tired to talk about it but also too tired to keep in his frustration. </p>
<p>“Fine then! I know nothing about panic attacks because I was isolated from polite society my whole life and no one bothered to explain mental health to their pathetic little pet rat!” He let out one short sob and hated himself for it. </p>
<p>“Roddy, no one thinks you’re pathetic!” Rita looked aghast, and somewhat saddened. </p>
<p>Roddy stood sharply and turned away so he didn’t have to look at Rita anymore. “Don’t they? Everyone who finds out I’m from Up Top pokes fun that I’m somehow both spoiled rotten and need to be pitied,  and I’m obviously not well informed enough to live normally. I hardly know anything about how society works and I don’t even know what it’s like to have a family or friends! I’m constantly waiting for everyone to find out I’m a fraud, especially your family. I can’t even get my spoon in the stupid bowl for god’s sake! I can’t do it. I can’t do any of it. All I’m good for is sitting in a cage and only coming out to sing Tom Jones for your grandmother. I’ll never be a proper rat, I wasted too much time being someone’s pet and I’m stuck that way now. Nothing I ever do will make me right or good enough.” By the end of his outburst, Roddy had squatted and curled in on himself again and was sobbing openly. He felt like he was crying so hard he couldn’t get enough air. Rita knew it all now. She knew how pathetic he was, and she was going to break up with him and get a real boyfriend and – </p>
<p>Before he knew what was happening, Rita had enveloped him in a bear hug, as if she could squeeze the sadness out by sheer force. Her face was wet and her voice was rough. “Roddy St. James of Kensington-”</p>
<p>“Oh don’t bother, we both know that’s not real – “</p>
<p>“Roddy St. James of Kensington you are not pathetic, and you are not ill suited for society or whatever that was. You do not belong in a cage and I do not pity you, nor does anyone else in my family. And if anyone else does they can mind their own fucking business!” Rita grabbed his shoulders and looked at him imploringly, her eyes shining. “Roddy, I love you. All of you. Even the panic attacks and anxiety and all the things about yourself you think are ugly or unacceptable. Because they’re part of you, Rods. I love every bit of it. I love that you’re different from me and I love your perspective on things. I wouldn’t want any of it to change.”</p>
<p>Roddy couldn’t breathe, but now it was less panic and more shock. “Rita, I…” He cried again, hugging Rita like his life depended on it. She resumed rubbing his back and whispering kind and loving things to him until he calmed down some time later. </p>
<p>“Well.” Roddy said shakily. “Sorry about that.” He held up a hand to stop Rita’s inevitable protest that he had nothing to be sorry for. “I know, but still. I can’t help but feel like I’ve made your parents and especially the kids worry.” </p>
<p>Rita scoffed. “The kids know what a panic attack looks like. My dad’s had loads of them since the accident and…” she looked away slightly, “I’ve had my own fair share of close calls,” she said softly. “So I know how it feels, Rods. I know how out of control you can feel, and how you feel like you’ll never be safe or you’ll never fit right again because of what happened, but trust me when I say it gets better with time. I think if you give life down here more time than a couple weeks, you’ll see it get better. We can help you every step of the way. You’re not alone anymore, love. Don’t think you have to face this by yourself. We love you loads.” </p>
<p>“Okay.” Roddy sniffled and wiped at his eyes. After a beat he said, “I suppose we should go back in. I do want to try again.” </p>
<p>“All right, tough stuff. Need a hand?” Rita stood and held out her hand for Roddy to take. He let Rita pull him up and they headed back into the house. </p>
<p>Catching sight of the clock, Roddy blurted out, “Two hours?! We were out there for two hours?!?!” </p>
<p>Mrs. Malone appeared from around the corner, “Yep. But don’t worry about that.” She put a hand on Roddy’s shoulder, looking at him with kind eyes. “How are you, love? That seemed like a bad one.” </p>
<p>“Yes, I’m alright!” Roddy waved his hand. “Although I hadn’t thought it would be quite so…extended…” </p>
<p>Rita’s father wheeled into the room. His upper body cast had been removed and only the ones on his legs remained. “We know how that is, don’t worry. All the kids are in bed now, so why don’t we have an adults only chat and a cuppa in the living room? You’ve got to tell us how you and Rita are getting on. She’s not pushing you around too much, is she?” He leaned in conspiratorially, stage whispering, “She can be a bit bossy!” </p>
<p>“BOSSY?” Rita scoffed indignantly, “I am not bossy! I am firm but fair and you know it!” </p>
<p>Rita and her father moved into the living room while Rita’s mother brought in the tea. Roddy had to laugh at their banter and the tea cup was warm in his hands. He thought to himself, maybe he could do this after all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought in the comments. :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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